


We Were Bored with Looking Good

by empireant



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, Bad Writing, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, accidentally married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-08 20:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11653911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empireant/pseuds/empireant
Summary: There's roses, a photograph, and a killer headache, but no explanation as to how exactly they ended up eloped to each other...





	1. morning

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry i just love writing them as idiots.

There's a remorseless throbbing in Mingyu's head when he awakens to the quiet hotel room. At least, it _seems_ quiet until he recognizes a steady pattern of breathing beside him. And as the years have conditioned him to identify this particular person, he isn't alarmed by the company.  
  
Consciousness barely seeping into his bones, Mingyu tries to take in his surroundings and remember why he's in a strange room, sharing a bed with Minghao, and—judging by the nausea—nursing a possible hangover.  
  
A look to his left shows him that there is another bed available, so for whatever reason, he choose to sleep next to his best friend.  
  
Out of the ordinary, sure. But not appalling. Maybe he was too tired to get to his own bed and Minghao let him crash there?  
  
On the nightstand closest to him, he sees there's a notepad. Matching pen at its side. A worthy contender to reveal the name of the hotel. He reaches for it carefully, scanning over the words several times, drowsiness fighting his ability to read immediately after awakening.  
  
_Luxor._ It's definitely a Vegas hotel. One whose name he's seen before.  
  
Mingyu presses a hand to his head and rubs his temples. A while ago he and Minghao had planned a trip to Las Vegas. Just the two of them. A celebration for having finally found full-time jobs.

"Looks like we made it..." Mingyu announces feebly, falling back against his pillow. For now, their whereabouts are clear, however, he still doesn't understand the head pain... or—why there's a bouquet of white roses on top of the hotel's television.  
  
It's like his thinking wakes up Minghao, because he begins to stir in that instant, slowly blinking his eyes open.  
  
Honestly speaking, Minghao isn't a bad sight in the morning.  
  
"Good morning." Minghao greets softly, voice still raspy and deep from sleeping, his lips curled in a warm smile.  
  
Mingyu is overcome with flooding fondness, and the annoyance of his headache becomes background static while he watches Minghao stretch out his limbs beneath the sheets. "Good morning." He finds himself smiling in return. " _You_  woke up in a good mood." Even in college, the day after an intense party, Mingyu would be the one complaining about his nasty headache, while Minghao sat on the couch, tired but not unwilling to laugh at his whining.   
  
"Mmm. I had a nice dream. That's all." Minghao yawns, rubbing the dryness from his eyes, "Did you sleep we-" he stops halfway through his sentence and stares at the back of his hand abruptly, mouth paused in a pout-like shape.  
  
Mingyu thinks a grown man doesn't have any business looking that endearing, but reaches out anyway for Minghao's hand, carefully shifting on his pillow, "What is it?"  
  
He gently touches Minghao's right palm as he says, "I'm wearing a ring. Why the hell am I wearing a ring?"  
  
"Because you like jewelry?" 

"But Mingyu," Minghao turns his hand so Mingyu can see it. "Not on _this_  finger and _never_ this style..."  
  
Mingyu brings his hand closer, trying to get a better view of the design Minghao claims is foreign to him.  
  
"You're wearing one too!"  
  
Mingyu instantly drops Minghao's hand and looks at his own. Lo and behold, his left hand is sporting a thick silver ring, second finger from the left.  
  
"Oh no..." Minghao groans, sitting up and letting his head bump against the board.  
  
A strange nervousness begins to dwells in Mingyu's stomach. Hangover symptom or a gut feeling he's not sure. "Minghao?" He tries to put the clues together on his own, but the persistent migraine clogs his thinking systems completely.  
  
Minghao refuses to look at him, instead chewing his lip and facing the ceiling. "Walk over to the nightstand by your bed and tell me nothing is on there."  
  
"Do I really have to move?"  
  
"Please..."  
  
There's an urgency in his voice that shakes Mingyu enough to move. He presses onto Minghao's arm for a moment, in what he hopes is a comforting manner, before getting up to the nightstand on the opposite edge of the room.  
  
There _is_ something there.  
  
"Talk to me Mingyu."  
  
White border. Glossy paper. A clear image.  
  
"It's... it's us Minghao..." Mingyu feels the words spill out, but doesn't acknowledge them as his own. Time ticks at an ultra downtempo pace, every piece of the puzzle connecting in slow motion to his shock.  
  
"W-why did we take a fake wedding photo?" He forces a strained laugh from his throat and lifts the picture from the counter. "That's a little weird right? Right, Minghao?" There's definitely a tremble in his voice that isn't subtle.  
  
"I can't believe this. I can't." Minghao now has his eyes squeezed shut, his hands running through his matted hair.  
  
Unmistakably, the photograph is a clear shot of one Kim Mingyu kissing one Xu Minghao at a chapel and—even the roses are there too... caught in Mingyu's hands.  
  
Mingyu barely makes it to the bathroom to puke.

* * *

  
  
When Mingyu stumbles out again, Minghao is standing beside the door, ready to hand him a water bottle. His bright brown eyes now clouded with worry. "You good?"  
  
He nods wearily, taking the offering. "This is the worst hangover I've ever had."  
  
"Yeah," Minghao crosses his arms and breaks into an indulgent small smile, "You're pretty shit at handling alcohol."  
  
"Hey! I've gotten a lot better!"  
  
Minghao leans against the wall. "Okay, okay, yes of course, you're a _man_  now. I apologize."  
  
Begrudgingly, Mingyu gulps the water in silence, tormented not only by the taste in his mouth, but also the physical proof of their drunken decision last night.  
  
Minghao scrunches his nose. "Ugh. This really explains why your breath smelled like cherry wine coolers first thing in the morning."  
  
"Well," Mingyu wipes his mouth, "you didn't complain about it then."  
  
"You're right. I didn't." Minghao responds too simply to be anything but mischievous. He turns his back on Mingyu and takes a seat on their shared, currently unmade, bed. "Come here my husband." He orders sweetly, making a curling motion with his index finger.  
  
Mingyu chokes on the last of his water, spilling some on the carpet and his shirt. Minghao shakes his head, looking like he might burst into giggles at any moment, "You've got something on your chin, _honey_."  
  
"Quit it." Mingyu coughs, flustered by the lack of air and the way Minghao breathed the word _honey_. The stuff of dreams. Minghao's ability to tease him showing its capability to survive even the most awkward of situations, which he's extremely grateful for. Humor being a delightful way to ignore the horrors of your bad decisions.

Once he's somewhat recovered, he eventually tosses the empty bottle in a bin by the door, taking his place beside Minghao.  
  
"So."  
  
"So..."  
  
They're not looking at each other anymore. Embarrassment consuming them fairly quickly.  
  
"I'll go first." Minghao volunteers. "I initially...believed the whole thing was a dream."  
  
Mingyu turns to look at him then. Minghao is chewing on his lip again, something Mingyu hates because it always brings his attention to those lips and he'd rather not get caught staring. And his friend is clutching onto the edge of the bed, usual cool and composed disposition gone from his face.  
  
"That's the first thought that came to you in the morning, and you thought it was a dream?"  
  
"Ha..." Minghao laughs once, humorlessly. "Yeah...seemed too bizarre to be real..."  
  
Despite the pulsating in his brain, Mingyu manages to recalls their moment earlier. Specifically, Minghao saying he dreamt well when he woke up like the rising sun, all bright and pleasant.  
  
He bumps Minghao's shoulder. "A 'nice dream' you called it?"  
  
Minghao instinctively wraps his arms around himself. "I thought it was funny!" He says defensively.  
  
Mingyu smirks at him, unable to stop his own reaction. "That's all?"  
  
"Absolutely!" Minghao shoots back up like the comforters offended him. "Good talk. Anyway. We should call Seokmin."  
  
Mingyu gets up to follow Minghao, who rummages through a bag for his phone.  
  
"Why Seokmin now? Are you sure you're not just avoiding-"  
  
A screen is shoved in his face, showing an alarming seven missed calls from Seokmin.  
  
"I don't remember exactly what he has to do with this mess but there's some fragments of his voice in my memory." Minghao presses the call button. "He'll help us figure out what happened last night. Also," he points to his leather handbag strewn on the floor, "my head is killing me. Pass me the aspirin after you're done."

* * *

  
  
Seokmin goes from "I was so worried!" to hysterical cackling within minutes.  
  
"I woke up married to Mingyu! This isn't funny!"  
  
The man in question is lying on their bed, so that the sensation of spinning every time he gets up will ease away from him.  
  
_"You really went through with it! Awe Minghao, didn't you tell me once that—"_    
  
"No clue what you're talking about."  
  
_"Minghao. You were sober when you said it too. It's—"_  
  
"Not now okay?" He plops down on the other unused bed in the room. "I can't think about whatever dumb hopes you heard me confess. Just, tell me how much you know about yesterday."  
  
_"Okay. But your feelings aren't dumb, alright? You told me you were going to dinner, and then a walk."_    
  
"How did that lead to..."  
  
_"Mingyu called me at, well, your time, almost three in the morning, to announce his marriage."_    
  
"Three am..." Minghao cringes at the thought.  
  
Seokmin chuckles again, _"He asked me if I was happy for him."_    
  
Rudely, without his permission, there's a sudden tightness in his chest.  
  
_"He sounded excited."_    
  
Minghao sneaks a glance at Mingyu, who rolled onto his stomach at some point. "Why do you have to do this?" He asks under his breath.  
  
_"I was told once that people are the most honest when they're drunk. Something to keep in mind."_    
  
Choosing not to consider the implications of those words, he instead comes up with the brilliant plan to retrace their steps. "We went to dinner you say?"  
  
_"Yes yes. A meat restaurant?"_    
  
By the window, he sees bustling streets already swarming with life, people moving in and out of stores along the Vegas strip.   
  
"We'll find it. Maybe it'll bring back some memories. Thanks for the help. And," he watches Mingyu hurry from the bed to the bathroom again. "I'll think about what you said."  
  
_"Call me if you need anything else. Anything."_    
  
"Thank you Seokmin. We will. Take care."  
  
He hangs up and goes into the bathroom, where Mingyu is sadly sitting beside the toilet bowl. Minghao kneels beside him and starts to knead his back. A habit he'd picked up for any time he wants to erase the stressed expression from his face. "Hey. How are you feeling?"  
  
Mingyu rubs a hand over his cheek. "Better. I think I've thrown up every food I've eaten in the past month."  
  
"There there." Minghao scratches the nape of Mingyu's neck. "Seokmin told me where we were last night. I'm going to check it out." He nudges Mingyu's shoulder. "Will you be okay here alone?"  
  
Mingyu leans into him, uncaring of Minghao's personal bubble for the moment. "Take me with you."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I need to get out of here. Get some air." He sighs, dragging his fingers across his scalp. "Or else I'll lose my mind waiting."  
  
Minghao holds onto his arm, helping Mingyu to his feet as they leave the cold tile floor. "Alright then. We'll figure this out together. Trace our steps one at a time..."


	2. spin & win

Head resting on the table, coffee within reach, Mingyu closes his eyes as Minghao talks to him while he has breakfast.  
  
"Wow, this buffet has really good food." Minghao gushes, stabbing a piece of melon with his fork.  
  
"How could you eat at a time like this?" Mingyu responds, opening his eyes to give a weak glare.  
  
Minghao goes on unaffected by the look. "You know I never skip a meal. And breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I'll need the energy too if we're going to be walking all day." He cuts a generous piece of waffle for himself. _"Ohh."_ He practically moans. "You would love this."  
  
Mingyu dejectedly closes his eyes again, blowing air through his nose. "We finally go on our trip together and this is what happens..."  
  
The sulking is enough to persuade Minghao to put his silverware down. He really doesn't like seeing Mingyu in despair. If anyone's heart is pure enough to deserve exemption from sadness, it's him.  
  
"Being married to me is that bad huh."  
  
Mingyu doesn't say anything.  
  
Pushing his plate to the side, Minghao stands up, only to sit next to Mingyu instead of across from him. Slowly, he tries reaching for him, before ultimately deciding to pull his hand back.  
  
"I'm sorry this happened. I'm sure I'm the last person you'd want to end up with. But we'll figure it out, okay? That's all we can do now."  
  
Turning his head, Mingyu looks at him. "I know. But I can't help being upset about it. There's also..." With a heavy sigh, and downcast eyes, Mingyu lifts his head off the table. "We planned this trip to have fun. A good time. Not wake up lost and confused..."  
  
Spurred on by the innate need to ease his friend's brooding, Minghao settles one of his hands in Mingyu's hair. "Listen. Despite it all, as long as I'm with you, I'm happy."  
  
"Really?" Mingyu blinks hurriedly, like the concept is a surprise to him.  
  
Minghao nods, fondness seizing him mercilessly. "That's all I need. To be with the people I love." He takes his hand away, and redirects his eyes to his abandoned buffet plate, praying that Mingyu won't make fun of him (or latch onto the lovey-dovey expression he can't control anymore).  
  
Which he doesn't. Because Mingyu is thankfully unmindful of the strong truth beneath those words, and he never mocks Minghao when he's being sincere. Not about something like that.  
  
"You know. Being married to you isn't _that_  bad."  
  
Minghao meets his gaze in time to catch Mingyu's heart melting smile.  
  
"You're kind of cute."  
  
Wanting to keep at least some of his dignity, Minghao makes an effort to glare. "What have I said about calling me that?"  
  
"Not to do it?"  
  
Mingyu's grin is contagious. That, or Minghao is just weak. Probably more the latter.  
  
Any opportunity to be sappy further is stolen, when a flat screen hanging on the wall robs Minghao's attention.  
  
"Say Mingyu, have you ever won at a slot machine before?"  
  
Mingyu frowns, starting to squint before Minghao points to the television screen.  
  
There's a snapshot of the two of them, mouths forming round shapes in sheer surprise at a glowing slot machine. It's a little peculiar how they blend in so easily among the Americans. Equally entranced as everyone else.  
  
"Did they photoshop my nose?" Mingyu grumbles in offense, reaching up to pinch the bridge of it.  
  
Minghao knocks his hand away. "Your nose is fine the way it is. Do you remember that game from yesterday? Because I do."  
  
He doesn't need more than a moment to think about it. "I do too actually..."

* * *

  
  
"Should we try these machines, Minghao?"  
  
Minghao surveyed the casino floor. Overwhelmed by the colorful flashes, lingering scent of nicotine, muffled clicks, and chatty murmur, attacking all of his senses at once. "Do people really win money from these?" He stared up at Mingyu, bewildered.  
  
Trying to act cool, Mingyu had casually tilted his hands like balancing a scale. "You win some, you lose some." Really he had no clue what the odds were. But Minghao didn't have to know that.  
  
"So what'll it be? Which one calls your name, Minghao?"  
  
His best friend spun around in place for a second, before smiling upon finding what he wanted.  
  
Of course it was the slot machine with a big puppy on it.  
  
"Okay, so for this one..." Maintaining the charade of the expert, Mingyu stood by Minghao when he slipped a few bills into the machine. "You have to click this button and you win if you get the same type of dog in a row."  
  
"Cool. Can I do it now?" Minghao was practically buzzing, giddiness all over his face. It was adorable.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
Classic slot machine levers have mostly been replaced by an anticlimactic button, but nonetheless, the prospect of winning millions is enough for anyone to feel thrilled.  
  
When three mismatched dogs lined up, Minghao expectantly turned to Mingyu. "What does that mean?"  
  
"We don't get anything."  
  
He slouched then, a stark contrast to the electronic chipper pups barking in his face.  
  
"Let's try it again." Mingyu said quickly, almost laughing as he placed more dollars into the slot.  
  
They'd been there for maybe half an hour. That's what it felt like at least. No clock in sight to tell the time and only their increasing dizziness to go by. Spin after spin, losing every cent they put in. Until Minghao was fed up.  
  
"I'm not good at this. You should try it now."  
  
In an attempt to cheer him up, Mingyu said, "Choose one for me then."  
  
They migrated to a slot with dancing fruits as the symbols. Minghao obviously had a thing for any seemingly good-natured icons.  
  
"Now, let me show you how the pros do it."  
  
Minghao hummed in fake acknowledgment.  
  
"First, you have to wiggle your fingers like this," Mingyu wagged his fingers in the air.  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Now, you..." A dancing lemon in sneakers stared back at Mingyu, taunting his unimpressive stalling. "Now you rub this panel right here. It's cold, you feel that?"  
  
Minghao put his hand over the cold surface slowly, until he was close to Mingyu's.  
  
"Cold machines are no good." It's something he'd read in a brochure on the plane ride there. Gambling superstitions. "You have to warm it up."  
  
"So that's what 'cold machine' means? Physically cold." Minghao smiled at him, fully entertained.  
  
"Yup, yup."  
  
"Right. Of course." Minghao smacked his forehead with his palm. "How could I forget?"  
  
"Not all gambling newbies know this. S'okay." Mingyu then watched an animated orange on-screen urge him to spin already. "Then you, um..."  
  
Whatever he has going to make up was cut off by the abrupt click of the whirl button.  
  
"You were taking too long. Consider it a joint effort." A breathy voice talked low, awfully close to Mingyu's ear.  
  
Minghao's voice was unnecessarily seductive, making Mingyu forget how to speak for a second. Minghao was _so_ close. His lips were right _there._    
  
"You're not mad, right?" The voice got farther away, allowing Mingyu to compose himself again.  
  
"Okay, sorry. Don't be mad. I promise I'll let you do the next one on your own." Minghao relented, straightening up behind him.  
  
Just before Mingyu could deny any pettiness, a shrill blare spooked him from the seat, causing Minghao to steady his shoulders down.  
  
"Why's it making that noise? Wait _—_ did you win something?"  
  
Other hotel guests were beginning to crane their necks through the gaps in the aisles, watching the both of them gawk upon the coin clinking sound the slot made.  
  
An employee eventually made their way through the ruckus. "Have you ever visited our casino before?"  
  
Her pleasant expression remained even as they shook their heads, looking like a pair of deer in the headlights.

"How did you know we speak Korean?" Minghao managed to ask, surprised by her quick assistance.

"I might have overheard you speaking to each other."

"Oh."  
  
"Anyway, by pressing this button, you can receive your cashout voucher. You can pick up your earnings at any of the following windows..."  
  
Mingyu nodded along to her explanation, still amazed by the fact that he actually won money. He barely moved until the friendly woman had left.  
  
"How much is it?" Minghao's face was back by his shoulder again, not making his thought process any quicker.  
  
"Let me see." He cleared his throat, feeling it to be unbearably dry, and snatched the paper ticket that the machine spit out.  
  
Minghao hugged Mingyu's shoulders and leaned above him to see for himself.  
  
"Three thousand! Guess you really are a lot better at this game than me."  
  
Mingyu patted one of Minghao's hands on his chest. "Joint effort." Then he tucked the scrap into his pocket. "But mostly my good luck."  
  
To his dismay, Minghao did let him go after that, standing upright and rolling his shoulders.  
  
Mingyu turned around on the stool. "Minghao, what would you buy with three thousand dollars?"  
  
He seemed to think on it for a moment. "Maybe... really expensive clothes? Something Gucci?"  
  
Mingyu contemplated the idea, watching Minghao's brows furrow in thought. "Or like, really pricey food..."  
  
Food wasn't a bad idea. They had dinner planned anyway. Extra cash would pay it off nicely. Even the most lavish entrees or drinks on the menu... "Minghao!" He bolted up, knocking the stool over with his strength, but ignored it, in favor of tightly grabbing onto Minghao's shoulders. "That's it!"  
  
"What is?"  
  
"Remember we went wine tasting once?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Well get this. We're in Vegas, with 3000 to spare. Enough to buy several of the most expensive bottles at that steakhouse! So, what do you say? Wanna get high class drunk with me?"  
  
They were never classy with alcohol. Never.  
  
Minghao's smile blossomed and wrapped itself around Mingyu's heart. "I like your thinking."  
  
Regardless, the drinking couldn't be at fault for their stupidity. That was all them. Diving headfirst into the deep end was practically their favorite pastime by now.  
  
Once they'd picked up the earnings and were standing out on the sidewalk, sun only shimmering on the edge of the horizon, Minghao tugged at Mingyu's short sleeve. He was fostering a sideways frown.  
  
"Minghao?"  
  
"So, you're cool with just..." He gestured his hands in a fluttering motion, "Spending all this money on dinner?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
It wasn't a satisfying answer, because Minghao only nodded, stepping back farther.  
  
"Really, it'll be fun." Mingyu shuffled closer and put an arm around Minghao's shoulders. "Think of all the drunk phone calls we're going to make."  
  
Minghao groaned. "Oh, I _so_  want to say this time will be different but," His gaze met Mingyu's, "our dumb shit is predictable after all these years."  
  
"Five dollars we're calling Seokmin first."  
  
"That's not fair, you _know_  we're calling him first." Minghao pursed his lips, and then laughed. "Five dollars he picks up on the third ring."  
  
"I say second."  
  
Shaking hands on it wasn't even necessary.  
  
  
  
  
  
"This is nice." Mingyu said later, as they pushed down the street full of fellow tourists, still stuck at each other's side.  
  
"Having three thousand dollars in your pocket?"  
  
"I meant, being here with you."  
  
Minghao said nothing, but there was the tiny upturn on the ends of his mouth, that Mingyu would have missed had he not learned to recognize many of his habits.  
  
"But sure. That's nice too."

* * *

 

"Do you even think they'll remember us at that meat restaurant?" Mingyu worries aloud as they walk towards it on the sunny sidewalk, finally having left the buffet.

"We were there just last night. Worth a shot. Maybe we told them something about our, um," His tongue trips on the syllables, finding it hard to describe something he doesn't even know the details about yet. "...weird plans, while we were drunk."

"What if they have nothing to tell us? We show up at every chapel in town asking if they married us?" Mingyu is still on edge. That much he knows.  
  
"Then it'll be a very long day. Want to hold my hand, _dear?_ _"_ He does extend it jokingly, but he wouldn't mind actually holding hands.

"Oh, you're having way too much fun with this." The eye roll is enough to tell him the offer is unwanted.

"Well, _someone_ has to be the happy one in this relationship."

He's gone quiet again, which makes Minghao uncomfortable. Talking through the events of yesterday at the casino probably brought his friend's anxiety back up again.

_"Mingyu."_

"What?"

He hooks his arm with Mingyu's, "Try not worry so much. I'm here. It's okay."

The nerves seem to forcibly relax a bit more, as he does become less stiff.

"Thanks." Mingyu's eyes flicker to him. "But quit that voice."

"Huh?"

 _"That_ voice."

_"What voice?"_

"The one where you try to act cute Minghao, stop acting like you don't know what I mean."

"This is literally my regular voice."

"......."

"Woah. You really find me that charming."

However much Mingyu makes an effort to wiggle his arm out of Minghao's grasp, fails to be enough.

He giggles quietly in delight, powerless to hold it in, an airy feeling lifting his spirits up and away, "Don't worry. I like your voice too, Mingyu."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry for the long wait between updates. im a veryy slow editor. i'll try to do better.)


	3. berry elixir

Always aware of Minghao's quota for physical affection, Mingyu separates himself once they step into the restaurant, consequently watching Minghao fluff his hair with his now freed arm.

 _"Hello."_ A waiter in a bowtie greets upon their entry. _"Oh, I recognize you two from yesterday!"_ He points at them, surprised, as he gathers menus in his hands. _"Let me tell you, the bartenders would_ not _stop cooing about the both of you. Even more than the married couple!"_  
  
At the phrase "married couple," they both instinctively look down at their rings.  
  
_"Oh."_ The waiter pauses, friendly smile temporary dampened. _"Oh! You're married! Well that makes sense. I should have guessed. because you weren't wearing your rings I thought you were only a couple."_  
  
Now, Mingyu can stomach awkward situations head-on perfectly fine. He's experienced enough to deem himself a master. But Minghao on the on the other hand looks like he wants to run.  
  
_"We have a question about yesterday."_  He mentally pats himself on the back for the excellent English. _"How... much time were we here?"_ Arriving there is intact in his mind, the time of their departure however is murky. He remembers stumbling out onto the sidewalk...  
  
_"Um,"_ the waiter clicks his pen in thought. _"You were here for about 3 hours?"_  
  
Mingyu turns to Minghao, "So we left around 9?"  
  
_"Will you be dining in tonight_ sirs?"  
  
He shakes his head, _"No, we were just... having a walk. Thank you!"_    
  
Placing a hand on Minghao's back, he leads them outside again where they find a spot to sit.  
  
"What're you thinking?" Minghao asks when they're facing each other.  
  
"I'll share what I remember, and you share what you remember."

* * *

  
  
The same waiter had welcomed them in the night before and led them to their seats at a tall table near the bar.

Choosing between the rowdy casino and their new dinner destination, Minghao easily preferred the laid-back, romantic environment over the frantic beeping of machinery. Even if it was fascinating to see with his own eyes rather than in a dubbed movie back in Korea. So far, he'd been enjoying seeing all the pretty lights and unfamiliar sights, but taking it easy, unwinding with Mingyu, had its own charm. One that he never got tired of.

No Vegas attraction stood a chance against Mingyu's undivided attention.  
  
Once the waiter had left to place their orders, besides the flicker of candlelight, Minghao had admitted softly, "I'm weirdly excited."  
  
Mingyu barely heard his admission over the hum of jazz music—carried on by a piano player and his band, playing without a care to an audience of crimson draped tables. "Why's that?"  
  
"I don't know..." He shrugged with one arm, shifting around his seat. Not wanting to be so transparent, he kept scanning the menu. Like somehow it could block Mingyu from seeing right through him.

 _This is romantic_ was on a loop in his brain, and trying to remove the needle from the record was proving to be an irritating challenge already. With the combination of alcohol, he had a hunch on exactly how their night would end. Making out, then pretending it meant nothing the next morning.

Far from home however, he couldn't have ever guessed what their night would end like in a foreign city.  
  
"I'm excited to try this expensive wine. Looking forward to it." He said after resigning to his, then incorrectly, predicted fate.  
  
"Ah." Mingyu took his enthusiasm without question. Matching it well with his own. "Me too. Let's try a few glasses, and then get a bottle of our favorite one."  
  
"Fine with me."  
  
Having tasted three different cellar options, they settled on a bottle of red wine upon Minghao's preference and Mingyu's insistence.  
  
Already, Minghao felt his face to be abnormally warm, but from Mingyu spoiling him rather than the slow effect of their few drinks.

"Whatever he wants." Mingyu had said, indicating to Minghao when the waiter asked for their final choice.  
  
Searching for the names listed in the wine menu, Minghao had said, "I'll choose a cheaper one..."  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"Pick anything you want."  
  
For a moment, Minghao's line of sight changed to the man taking their request. He hoped the guy wouldn't stick around to see his soon-to-be demise. But that was wishful thinking. "Well. We both liked this one so..."   
  
Their waiter muttered some Italian names and he nodded, assuming it was the right way to pronounce that menu choice.  
  
When they were left alone again, Mingyu did that thing that pushes Minghao over the edge and into the abyss, every time. When he looks at him, and his expression is too fond and too sweet, that has Minghao swooning and his heart clenching.

"Let me spoil you, Minghao. I want to."  
  
Candy for his ears. Not good for his health.  
  
  
  
"I'm really glad we took this trip." Mingyu admitted halfway through dinner. Satisfied with a side of tipsy. "I'd been wanting it for so long. We hardly get time for just the two of us now." Realizing what he'd said, he waved his hands frantically, "Not that I dislike Seokmin or the three of us living together!"  
  
It's funny how flustered Mingyu gets. Even funnier how quickly it happens when he's got a glass in his hand. "I get what you mean." Minghao said, completely empathetic. "All of our other friends are around so often, it's like _all_ of us live together." Oftentimes it did feel that way. He'd be finishing a chapter of his book, and then find Wonwoo reading his own novel in the same room. Or he'd fall asleep after a movie, and wake up to Hansol watching a crime documentary. Junhui making dinner. Seungkwan talking on the phone.  
  
"But hey, I'm glad we're adults with stable jobs now. We can actually afford to feed them." Minghao filled his cup again, raising it toward Mingyu. "To adulthood."  
  
Mingyu grinned, reciprocating the motion. "To adulthood. Cheers."  
  
They twisted their arms together so they could drink from each other's glasses. A dumb tradition they'd started and never put an end to, no matter how much their friends teased them.  
  
"This is likely the only time we'll get away from our friends all year."  
  
"They're a needy bunch aren't they?" Minghao said, thinking of all the times they'd pop in during the week.  
  
"Probably why they always invite us drinking. Maybe what they need is girlfriends so they'll stop bothering us." 

 _Maybe_ we _need girlfriends_ went unsaid. Launched into the pile of  _Things We Refuse Confronting._  
  
  
  
  
By late night, everything felt right. With every glass of wine, Mingyu found himself and Minghao less and less guarded. Unfurling from their usual hiding spaces.   
  
At some point they'd scooted closer to the table. As if the music were so loud they couldn't hear each other. And they had cut down to using only one wine glass (Mingyu's) sharing it back and forth, brushing their hands together (most definitely on purpose), or they would just hold it for the other person while they tipped their head back.  
  
Mingyu watched Minghao lick his lips after taking the glass away from him. "That one stained your mouth red." He mentioned, too far gone to keep his thoughts to himself.  
  
"Hm." Minghao dragged his tongue across his lips even slower again.  
  
Everything was nothing more than a muffle around them.  
  
"Does it look strange?"  
  
"No." Mingyu stared shamelessly. "It's like a strawberry color. Your mouth is usually a lighter pink..." Feasibly nothing he would have said had he been sober.  
  
Minghao laughed, soft and free. "You pay a lot of attention to my lips?"  
  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
  
One is the loud drunk. One is the quiet drunk. But they're both brutally honest drunks, tongues loosened by the cold sting. Truths meeting exactly where they want them to be.  
  
When it's all said and done, they're liars for pretending none of the affection happened, blaming all their "clinginess" on the drinks, like somehow the spirit of grapes possessed them to act like they were in love.  
  
It happens time and time again. Only getting worse within the years. But they're willing to risk the aftermath humiliation if it means one night of talking to each other without uncertainty to hold them back.  
  
So Minghao smiled openly in response, and obliged whenever Mingyu tried to feed him from the opposite seat. He threaded his fingers through Mingyu's hair for no reason at all. They spoke to each other like the whole conversation was a secret.  
  
Five glasses of wine in, their fingertips playfully connected halfway across their table, loud whistling pulled their heads further apart. Minghao whipping his head around to the commotion Mingyu was looking towards.

Roaring applause surrounded a couple a few feet back. A woman was sobbing in a man's arms, and he was holding a small velvet box in his fist. Wasn't hard to put two and two together.

"I'm going to guess she said yes."

Dazed, stuck in his own world, Mingyu had then whispered, "Minghao, why aren't _we_ married?"

 

* * *

 

Mingyu grimaces. "At least, that's what I _think_ I said. I don't even remember paying the bill." He pats his back pocket. "My wallet—my wallet is gone."

"Are you _just_ telling me this now?" Minghao says, standing up to search his own pockets.

"You know I never lose things, I thought I'd find it by now." Mingyu buries his face in his hands. They _really_ had too much to drink.

"Count it up with the list of things we lost last night then, right after: one, our heads," He pokes Mingyu's forehead, "And two, our dignity." 

"...Did we have any of that to begin with?"

"Nah." Minghao sits down again, disappointed. "But let me dream."

Mingyu watches the trail of people's shoes move on the concrete. "Do you know the rest? Of what happened yesterday?"

"Not really." Minghao says promptly. Awkwardly pronounced for such a simple phrase.

"Yeah, me neither."

They're both lying. The alcohol makes the memory fuzzy, but there's also very bright patches lingering at the forefront of their memory, resistant to the act of being disposed because their brains had categorized the moments under: important.

 

* * *

 

Stumbling out into the sidewalk, after finally being refused more alcohol because the waiter realized Minghao was more drunk than he seemed, they were giggling about who knows what. The joke long forgotten but the urge to laugh chased them to the ends of nowhere.  
  
Mingyu kept Minghao tucked into his side as they maneuvered through the populated streets and gleaming signs. Minghao lolled his head onto Mingyu's shoulder now and then, his hand gliding across the fabric on Mingyu's chest.

The divergence between sober Minghao and drunk Minghao was just more honesty, and giving into an urge for physical affection he didn't know he had had.

"That last cup. I spilled some of it on my leg." Mingyu giggled, and brushed his hand on his pants like that would make the stain disappear.  
  
"Guess you have to take your pants off now."  
  
Mingyu raised one of his eyebrows, still smiling, "Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?"  
  
Instead of a protest, Minghao shrugged happily.  
  
"I like you when you're drunk." Mingyu blurted out.  
  
They almost missed a curb, but held onto each other so they wouldn't fall.

"Uh, why?"  
  
"Cause." Mingyu looked at Minghao, with a hint of something distinctly like longing inside his eyes. "We don't have to pretend..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but Minghao got it. "Stop being sad. I hate when you're sad." In one slick movement he grabbed Mingyu's wallet from his back pocket and ran, benefitting from his slower reaction time.

As he was laughing, slipping messily through the obstacles in his way, he came across a large stone fountain. A replica of a Roman one. Stage lights beneath the bubbly water fading in and out of colors. Entranced by it, he missed Mingyu coming up behind him.

"Minghao!" Mingyu took the wallet back while he was still spellbound, and grabbed onto his shoulders. "What're you—oh. That's pretty."

They were quiet for a little longer, before Minghao said, "Is it prettier than me?" Batting his eyelashes as he turned around to look at Mingyu. 

Mingyu scrunched his nose, in that cute way he did when he was confused. "...No?"

"Hesitation..." Minghao made a sound of disapproval, and stepped into Mingyu's space farther.

"Then, yes?" Mingyu's voice became softer. "What do you want me to say?"

Minghao hung his arms on Mingyu's shoulders, and moved close enough so their noses were almost touching. "I want you to say, whatever _you_ want to say."

"Um." His eyes flickered down to Minghao's mouth. "Right now. I don't want to _say_ anything."  
  
Mingyu clashed their lips together for the sloppiest wet kiss, that would have missed its mark by a few centimeters had Minghao not made an attempt to reciprocate. Arms wrapped around his waist instantly, aggressively pulling him impossibly close.

The few tourists who had been standing around when they got there had cleared out at the sight of them. Which was well enough anyway because they didn't want anyone around.

When they broke apart, Minghao cupped Mingyu's face in his hands. "Hey... I've never said this to you before... not in this way at least." They were barely a breath apart. "And I feel like I'm running out of time." Desperation had settled in well into his mind. Maybe seeing the newly engaged couple at dinner had made him recall that there was someone he cared for like that. Or it was the question Mingyu asked after, that he had no response to other than: _"I_ _don't know really."_ Whatever it was, made him unplug the  _what if we don't work out,_ and connect the _you're my other half_ , and brought out a bravery in him he didn't recognize.

Mingyu's cheekbones were bathed in violet then, as the rosy pink lights faded from the fountain into a darker color. Night skies didn't seem so lovely in retrospect anymore.

"I love you."

Having expected nothing of the sort, Mingyu took the confession with raised eyebrows, and even through the haze of the red wine, he could hear the words in pristine condition.

"Mingyu, why aren't we married?"

Mingyu hardly had a chance to even process the words before Minghao was talking again.

"I'll learn to cook for you. I'll take care of you when you're sick. I'll massage you when you're tired. I'll read to you, and hold your hand, and watch the sunset with you, and remind you of how much you mean to me..." His last words are muffled as he nuzzled into Mingyu. "Mingyu, I want to do it all." 

Stunned. Mingyu was stunned and the alcohol wasn't helping organize what he wanted to say. But he heard enough. More than enough.

"Then, why don't we?" Mingyu winced when his knee hit the ground harder than he wanted, but took Minghao's hand in his. "Minghao, will you marry me?"

 

* * *

 

After a beat, Minghao pulls out his phone, sighing at the deteriorating battery. "Guess it's going to be a long day afterall. How many places can you get married at here?"

Mingyu shrugs, just so there's a response. He's occupied thinking about the words,  _I love you_ , and if Minghao really meant anything by it. Because they're still playing the same game, even when he thought they'd won.


	4. hitched

Clark County Marriage Bureau is the next probable location for both finding Mingyu's wallet _and_  any eyewitnesses to last night.  
  
When Minghao swings the door open, one of the clerks immediately elbows her coworker. Minghao does what he knows best. Ignore whatever they seem to be discussing, even though the conversation likely revolves around him and Mingyu who just walked in. His skills have been well honed, courtesy of Junhui and Hansol's weird whispering around the house.  
  
"I'll ask them for my wallet since I'm the one who lost it." Mingyu brushes past without so much as looking at him.  
  
"Yeah. Okay." Minghao replies. He can tell Mingyu is still bothered, considering the drag in his friend's footsteps, but the pep talks seem to do nothing long term to cheer Mingyu up. Maybe he just wants it all to be over. He won't blame him for that. Mingyu deserves better.  
  
He leans against a wall, allowing himself to doze off into the recesses of his mind, and behind the darkness of his eyelids, there's the hazy purple light and Mingyu's face extremely close to his.  
  
Minghao sighs. Back to living in denial. That's what they do. But. This time he's regretting it. Denial isn't a safe haven of return anymore. The walls have been repainted with a substance more toxic than before and it's making his head spin and his eyes sting. He, Xu Minghao loves Kim Mingyu. And he admitted to it for the first time, despite the massive uncertainty that prevented it before. That should have been the end of that, however, for the life of him he can't remember Mingyu referencing the same, that whatever this _thing_  is stretches beyond exterior level romance for the sake of fun, and delves into the realms of pure affection. Besides, the guy looks downright miserable right now. Not at all happy to be accidentally hitched.  
  
Mingyu loves a lot of people with every span of his heart. And it's hard to see himself as the center of any of that. Even if they did  _like_  each other, is it enough for sustaining a life together?  
  
Said person returns to him, thumb smoothing out the surface of a business card.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Once Mingyu flips it around and holds it up, Minghao sees a logo for a cross above a cartoon church with red heart outlined behind it.  
  
"The clerk told me we paid for a marriage license here and took one of these." Mingyu pockets the piece of cardstock, face uncomfortably unreadable. Voice a little tired. "One more place to visit."  
  
They're walking there, followed by the honks of impatient cars and excited tourists, when Mingyu speaks again.   
  
"Those other two clerks were talking about us. Guess they thought I didn't understand English well enough to know what they were saying." Mingyu kicks a bottle cap on the cement, watching it stop at the wired edge of a flowerbed.  
  
"Do I want to know what they said?"  
  
"Well," he half smiles, "one of them called us hot."  
  
"Oh." He looks away, vaguely in the direction of a pair of siblings shoving at each other behind their parents. A valid representation for how childish he feels.  
  
"But you probably don't want to hear that. You've never been good at taking a compliment."  
  
Minghao returns his gaze to Mingyu, disappointed by the hollowness of his voice. Last night he'd kissed the frown away, but this moment in time that solution is off the table. They're sober, and as far as Minghao knows, Mingyu doesn't remember his rambling proclamation of love.  
  
It's probably better that way.  
  
"I heard the taller one mention he saw us yesterday. He was surprised we weren't so clingy today."

Denial never striked him as unattractive till now. It's ugly. It's painful. And it makes his mouth dry for the worst reasons.  
  
"Sounds like a nosy guy."  
  
That's as much as they awkwardly get through before arriving at the front steps of the most commercial church Minghao has ever seen. He roughly remembers tacky bubblegum pink pews and an artificial perfume of orchids.  
  
Actually stepping inside almost gives him a headache. There's people waiting around, who _aren't_  intoxicated, and look like they won't regret it the next morning either. He looks away from the couples and checks out the photos on the wall. Which doesn't make anything better. When he sees the candid picture of two women before an officiant, his toes curl as the existence of _his_  wedding photo comes back to him.  
  
"My wallet isn't here either." Mingyu eventually delivers in his zombie-like state.  
  
Breaking out of his internal crisis, Minghao watches Mingyu dial a number on his phone.  
  
"Person at the front desk said it might be in the limo we took back to the hotel." He offers as way of explanation.  
  
Minghao resists the instinct to hug Mingyu, knowing too well it won't change anything. He just looks so miserable. But Minghao can't fix that when he's the cause.  
  
Mingyu talks to the limo driver with barely more energy than he's had conversing with Minghao, the nod of his head a small sign of life. "The driver found it and says she'll drop it off at the hotel."  
  
"That's nice of her." He tries, opening the exiting door of the chapel for Mingyu.  
  
"Yeah..." Mingyu flinches under the brightness outdoors. "Minghao, can we go now? We've chased every one of these places down. We know what happened. I'm worn out."  
  
He makes an attempt to hold Mingyu's arm, but he's already a handful of steps away, too distant. "Okay. Yeah, sure."

* * *

  
  
"I like you _so_  much." Minghao had mumbled into Mingyu's shoulder, standing behind a set of doors that led to an aisle and rows of wooden benches.  
  
"You're so clingy." Mingyu whined, not the least bit sincere. His _fiancé_ had clung to him since the act of his proposal. Overly affectionate and giggly. Mingyu didn't mind it too much.  
  
Fortunately, Minghao took his complaint with no interest and only held on tighter. "It's your fault for making me want to hug you." Which he did fully after saying that.  
  
"Whatever." Mingyu grinned, returning the gesture easily. "But you can't hold onto me like this when we go in there."  
  
Once they were in front of their officiant, saying their _I do's_ to a nonexistent audience, Mingyu rushed into the kiss, having missed the contact ever since they had to separate, crushing a bouquet in his hands as he did so. He heard a snap somewhere in the room, but didn't want to move away to figure out what it was. For someone who constantly focused on the little things, it took a cute guy and something to drink for complete distraction.  
  
"Complimentary limousine," was all they needed to hear before hopping into the back of one that smelled of new leather. They dropped the roses and the cardstock folder (that carried their newlywed photograph) on the carpeted floor, making themselves comfy on the plush seats.  
  
"Who are you calling?" Like a moonstruck schoolboy, Minghao was twirling the long hair by Mingyu's ear, apparently finding that more enticing than the free lemon soda. It was threateningly sweet and his expression cautioned to make Mingyu hold him tight any minute now.  
  
"Seokminie. He should know the good news right?" His thumb brushed against Minghao's cheek as he bobbed earnestly in agreement.  
  
_"Hello?"_    
  
"Seokmin! Guess what?"  
  
_"It's almost 3 in the morning."_ His voice was groggy, and in his right mind Mingyu would feel bad for waking him up. _"Are you okay?"_  
  
"Better than okay!" He caught Minghao in his peripheral vision, hands pressed against the glass of dark tinted windows. "Way way way better."  
  
_"Alright..."_    
  
"Minghao and I are married now, Seokmin!" Mingyu tried not to drop the phone from his hand, switching it the other side instead. He was fumbling uselessly and the ride swayed a little too much. Or he was the one swaying. It was definitely him.  
  
_"....."_    
  
"Aren't you happy for me?"  
  
_"Are you drunk?"_    
  
"Very!"  
  
_"I have to say... this is the weirdest prank call you two have ever tried pulling on me. Be careful out there. I'm going back to sl—"_    
  
"This isn't a prank buddy." Mingyu sunk back into the leather, turning his head so he could watch Minghao record the street view with this phone at an awkward angle out a crack of the window. He laughed at the thought of sober Minghao reflecting on his poor quality video. "I proposed and he said yes."  
  
_"This isn't a prank?"_    
  
Mingyu didn't answer, and he barely paid attention to Seokmin's progressively distraught questioning after that.  
  
He was staring at Minghao. Who has then smiling at his cheap new wedding ring. It was fake silver, just something that came in the package of things they paid for, but Mingyu would buy whatever ring Minghao wanted when they got back home. If it made him as happy as he was looking then, the price didn't matter. Mingyu knew the real value of things, and Minghao's pure happiness was priceless.  
  
While he was lost in the joy of being a newly married man, Minghao chose that moment to find him, his sharply lined brown eyes firmly locked in with his, evoking a full body shudder from him, and suddenly, he didn't want to be talking on the phone anymore.  
  
"Goodbye Seokmin."   
  
He hastily tried to shove his phone in his jeans, but something was already in that pocket. It was frustrating him. All he wanted was to get closer to Minghao. He reached in, not caring what was already in place, tossed it, then slid his phone there, oblivious to the flop of his wallet falling down.  
  
Mingyu scooted over until his thighs were flush against Minghao's. "Hi."  
  
Wearing an equally dopey grin, Minghao tilted his head. "Hi."   
  
And it felt kind of exhilarating to get so worked up over another person. It made his chest swell and his face scrunch up (which never failed to make Minghao smile for some reason). He wasn't going to give that feeling up. Not after everything. Not after how long it took to get there. Minghao's fond gaze was proof enough that the long jog to the finish line was worth it.  
  
He stretched his arm out behind Minghao's neck, inviting him to lean in, which he did. "So we're married now."  
  
"Looks like it." Minghao traced the ring on Mingyu's hand, expression dipped in a tranquil awe.  
  
"You know what that means right?"  
  
Minghao's round eyes narrowed into a focus on the ring. "No?"  
  
Mingyu laughed, not sure why, maybe just the overall joy made him ticklish, and reached to pet Minghao's hair. "You'll see when we get to the room."

 

  
  
The elevator door dinged open and Mingyu saw his opening. He was reminded of the old soccer playing days, being thoughtlessly excited by the competition. But this was a much lighter feeling. Rather than the fun of a good game, he felt a strong tug at his heart, something that said the current under his skin wouldn't go away within a few hours.  
  
Minghao emitted a sort of squeak when Mingyu heaved him up bridal style, and scrambled to clutch at his neck.  
  
"It's tradition to carry the bride over the threshold." Mingyu explained with a cocky grin. Foolproof plan to make Minghao squirm. "It wouldn't be official if I didn't do this."  
  
Chancing a look down, he was overjoyed to see he was right. Minghao had a pouty look on his face, and he was downright blushing too. Two in one. Sweet. "Your drunk ass is going to drop me." He eventually muttered, growing smile impossible to hide.  
  
Down the corridor, Mingyu stood still, glaring at the slot that required the keycard for their room to open.  
  
"You didn't think this through."  
  
"It might be in my wallet I—"  
  
"No, I have it!" Minghao took the card from his pocket and his soothing pat to Mingyu's cheek stopped his freak out midway.  
  
He stepped forward so Minghao could grasp the handle.  
  
"I got you, babe. Don't worry." Minghao told him, unlocking the place after a tiny beep.  
  
Mingyu felt his face warm up instantly. Alcohol did make him blush a lot easier. However, he's willing to admit even sober the word would have an effect on him. "Did you call me, _babe?"_ He walked inside, still carrying his husband, but arranging to drop him on the nearest fluffy bed.  
  
"I wanted to try it out." Minghao admitted bashfully, fingers stiffening by his neck.  
  
"...I like it." He eased Minghao down, and took the bouquet, photo, and cellphone from him.  "I like it a lot."  
  
He returned to his side shortly, and they both moved on their sides to face one another.  
  
Mingyu really liked the shape of Minghao's nose, and the realization that he could just reach out and touch it made him grin. He tapped the button shape with his index, making Minghao shake with stifled peals of laughter.  
  
"Get over here."  
  
Minghao tugged him by the collar, forcing Mingyu to move or be strangled. "So demanding."  
  
"Fine. Don't kiss me." Minghao pushed his shoulder away. "I didn't really want to anyway."  
  
"No, _Minghao,_ " Mingyu panicked for a second before he noticed Minghao was smiling. "Do I have to beg?"  
  
Minghao snorted. "Lucky for you, I'm not into that." His warm palms traveled slowly across his chest, returning to his shoulders. Minghao leaned in, but stopped short of his lips, dropping his head on Mingyu's chest instead. "I'm sleepy. See you...in the morning..."  
  
Mingyu blinked, before beaming into the hair nestled into his neck. He only had a moment of time left before Minghao was out cold. "Hey." He called out to the darkness, waiting for the drowsy groan of a response. "Promise me something."  
  
"Hm?" Minghao kept his eyes closed, draping his arm across Mingyu.  
  
"Promise me you won't forget all of this in the morning." It was probably the most sobering thought he'd had since dinner. His underlying anxiousness seemed to have found its backup charge at last.  
  
Waiting took his patience hostage and a bite out of his tranquility, but eventually, Minghao replied, "I promise..." into the crook of his collarbones.

* * *

  
  
As soon as they re-entered the hotel room, Minghao threw himself face down on the comforter. They'd visited every place they stumbled to, picked their brains off the floor, found Mingyu's wallet, and buried their feelings alive. All in a day's work. Wonderful. That was they'd set out to do anyway right? So it went...  _well._ Nobody cried or found out they'd urinated in public, so... good. All good.  
  
Perfect. Fantastic. According to plan.  
  
Minghao digs his fingers into the covers, barely cutting off his raspy cry. Everything is a mess. He really is the worst friend.   
  
Mingyu. Mingyu's standing in the middle of the room, just watching him. Minghao sits up.  
  
"We can get the marriage annulled. Then it will all go back to normal." He waves his hand in the air. "Like none of this ever happened." He forces a smile, absolutely sure of how stupid it looks.  
  
On the other hand, Mingyu's face is as wildly colorful as the view from the limousine window (he doesn't remember being in a limo but there's a blurry video in his cellphone. Disappointing. He expected drunk Minghao to keep his skilled camera control). Mingyu's mouth is twitching hesitantly, and his arms hang heavy on his sides.  
  
"Give me a chance."  
  
Minghao presses his lips together, waiting for Mingyu to explain the declarative outburst.  
  
"Give me a chance at being your husband. At making this work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((my computer fking deleted all my work & i had to start over. it tried saving the wrld from my writing but im stubborn. also, ded inside.
> 
> this is 5 chs idk why i labelled it as 6 whoops))


	5. silver linings

"My  _husband?_ " Minghao says breathlessly. Rushing palpitations knocking the wind out of him quicker than a punch to the gut.   
  
"I mean," Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, "We were already planning on spending the rest of our lives together anyway, right? Unless you hoped to replace your best friend at some point."  
  
Slowly, Minghao shakes his head.  
  
"Also." he sits on the opposite bed to be across from Minghao. "You did tell me you love me at the fountain."  
  
Gaining his wits back, Minghao manages to squint. "You told me you didn't remember any of that."  
  
"I only said that—hold it, you know about the fountain?"  
  
Realizing his mistake, Minghao's mouth opens once, before snapping shut.  
  
"You lied too!" Mingyu says, voice a pitch higher. "And I tried to be nice by not bringing it up so you wouldn't be  _embarrassed._ " He leans back, trained on glowering.  
  
"I'm sorry." Minghao schools his expression, gritty truth rolling off his tongue at the sight of his friend's disappointment. He figures it's time to man up to his unmistakable feelings. If he's not afraid of high production haunted houses, then he's not going to cower away from  _Mingyu_ , the guy who takes naps after doodling _._  "I was cowardly enough to avoid talking about it so you wouldn't finally reject me. But I meant everything I said. Really."   
  
Scowl dwindling, Mingyu accepts the explanation, partially satisfied. "Honestly, I was doubting you meant it."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Because I made you promise me you'd remember all of it in the morning."  
  
Minghao's jaw drops. "Seriously?"  
  
"You don't remember?"  
  
"Oh my god." He sinks his elbows painfully into his knees, veiling his face with his knobby fingers. "The one thing I needed to keep in my memory..." With coloured cheeks he peeks between the divides, the wedding ring glinting below the sharp end of his eye. "Please accept my apology? I _swear_ it wasn't my intention to break that promise."  
  
"Well. I'll think about it." Mingyu says immediately, already putting it behind him. There's comfort in a misunderstanding. And an even bigger warmth in knowing Minghao  _loves_ him, wholeheartedly accepted to  _marry_ him. "Hey," the pink on Minghao's face drains the tension from his shoulders, "Did you watch that video you recorded in the limosine?"  
  
"A while ago actually. It is  _so_  shitty. Literally just blurry footage of the ground. And my thumb." Minghao laments.  
  
It takes a second before Mingyu falls to his side laughing. "I knew it!" The jagged edges of his teeth sink themselves viciously into Minghao's fragile heart.  
  
He can't help smiling at Mingyu enjoying his misery. But he pretends to be halfway annoyed, huffing and crossing his arms, then turning his head to the side. The roses on the counter are evidently drying out. Vivid reds becoming more burnt umber.  
  
"What're we telling our friends?" Minghao says once Mingyu stops giggling.  
  
"Probably something like, 'hey you won't hear me whine about my love life anymore.'" Mingyu shrugs.  
  
Leave it to angel Seokmin to have to shoulder the burden of their annoying pinning. They need to buy him the biggest pizza there is.  
  
"So. It's a yes then?" Mingyu asks after a moment of comfortable silence. He walks over to loom above Minghao, and he revels in the way Minghao looks up at him. Tenderly picturesque and soft. 

"It's a yes. For as long as you'll have me."  
  
Mingyu kind of nods, because it's overwhelming to do anything else. "Preferably, I want to have you forever."  
  
Then Minghao stands up—a little too enthusiastically—because he bumps into Mingyu's rigid chest.  
  
A startled noise escapes Minghao's lips but he grabs Mingyu's bicep instinctively, holding him in place so he doesn't become acquainted with the ground. Showing a surprising amount of restraint, he doesn't laugh right in Mingyu's face.  
  
"S-sorry."  
  
"Are you? Because you look like you want to laugh."  
  
"No, really..." He ducks his head, trying to compose himself, and completely not succeeding.  
  
When he raises his chin again, a gentle kiss lands on the corner of his mouth, effectively cutting off his laughter and upsetting him for not having seen it coming, (but not  _actually upset,_  rather beyond delighted and all fluttery).  
  
Of course, Mingyu is smug for catching him off guard, but out of charity, chooses to let Minghao live. Just this once. Since he's feeling nice. "Right now, I don't know if I want to eat, or take a nap first."  
  
Minghao pats his cheek. "Sleep. I'll order food."  
  
"Nooo." Mingyu wraps his limbs around him, resting his head against the crown of fluffy brown hair. "Married couples have to sleep in the same bed Minghao, don't you believe in love? Order food after."  
  
"Where did you hear that?" The response generates a ticklish sensation across the skin on his neck.  
  
"I read it on Naver. Or something."  
  
"Or something." Minghao repeats. But he's already positioning himself on the right side of the bed. "Might I add, can we never drink that much again?"  
  
"Done."  
  
Minghao sinks into the pillow, watching Mingyu take off his shoes. "It occurs to me I won't have to pretend to be tipsy to kiss you anymore. That's probably why this hangover hit me so hard. I haven't genuinely had this much in a longwhile."  
  
Mingyu doesn't answer right away, which worries Minghao that it's time for a millionth apology about his deception, but then Mingyu says, "I did think it was weird you got tipsy over  _one_  beer all those times." Mingyu, his now official  _husband,_  lies next to him, wiggling into the covers. "But I did the exact same thing."  
  
Minghao breathes out, content and relieved. "So, what, those times you stumbled into me were faked so I would catch you?  
  
Mingyu nods. "What can I say?" He slings an arm across Minghao's waist. "I just love you that much."  
  
There's no hope now. Affection infected his every vein. His being is tainted with love. "I don't think we're nearly as mature as we think we are." Minghao answers quietly, enamoured by the small smile on his husband's face.  
  
"We'll make it work though." Mingyu shifts closer. "Like we always have."

* * *

It was a spur of the moment thing.

Standing in the kitchen, Mingyu had said, "Let's hike up that hill we see on the drive back home. You know, the one by the duck pond?" so genuinely excited, that Minghao found himself equally eager for it.

And they walked steadily up and around the mound, the sun rising along with them.

Several minutes of huffing later, they're standing at the top, valley of their neighborhood down below.

Smog from the early morning traffic already nestled in place wraps around the identical specks lined up in rows, looking more like low clouds than nasty pollution. Even the old greenhouse looks more lively than dangerous in the flattering rays of early light. From a distance, you can't tell the paint is cracked, or that it smells of moths. (However, Mingyu does currently have a blister to prove its innocence false. He's vowed never to buy anything from that nursery again. No matter how badly he wants another house plant.) 

Observing the town makes Minghao feel somewhat small and insignificant. Just another speck in someone else's point of view. And consequently, it makes him grateful to be alive for this particular rotation of the Earth. 

"Do people consider hiking a date?" Mingyu says after they've caught their breath sitting on a molded ledge. He wanted to do something nice alone, the both of them together, despite having to get back to adult responsibilities once the Vegas trip was over last week. But it's not often he's tried to be romantic or had the incentive to until now, so he doesn't know how well it's worked out.

Minghao takes his eyes away from the view to smile at Mingyu, expectantly by his side. "It's a date." He says without second guessing. "I don't care if it's not what other people think is romantic.It is for me when you planned this for _us_." In hindsight, Mingyu went about his day thinking about how to spend a Saturday morning with him and it's such a sweet thought that all Minghao can do is comfortably rest his head on Mingyu's shoulder. He'll have to show his gratitude later.

Taking Minghao's hand in his, Mingyu kisses the new, authentic silver band on his finger. "Thanks, sweetheart." He adds the term of endearment last second, knowing that it will cause, and receiving, a laugh from Minghao.

When the sunlight gets too hot to be pleasant, they stand up again for the easier jog back down.

"Mingyu." He hears his husband call out to him.

"Yeah?"

"Out of all the people in the world, I'm so glad it was you."

* * *

Months later, Seokmin, Junhui, Seungkwan, and Wonwoo are lounging about the living room, speaking in hushed tones.

"How do we convince them to move out, when Minghao keeps organizing the brochures instead of reading them!" Seungkwan nudges Seokmin's knee, "Try to contribute to this conversation."  
  
Seokmin stares back, "I'm perfectly fine with them here. It's  _you_  that wants them out so you can move in."  
  
Seungkwan tries to reason with his friend. "Don't be so stubborn! Married people need their privacy. They can't just stay here." He turns to Wonwoo and Junhui, who are occupied with a card game on the ground, leaning on the coffee table. "What about you two?"  
  
"Me?" Junhui asks aloud, with the same wonder someone who had never been spoken to before would have used.  
  
Wonwoo doesn't look up from the cards, but sets one down. "Have you tried just talking to them?"  
  
"Then they'll think we're kicking them out."  
  
"Well, that's what you're trying to do." Wonwoo raises a critical eyebrow that makes Seungkwan especially tired.

"There's a difference between wanting them to be happy and throwing them out." He bites back, exasperated by everyone's lack of understanding.  
  
"Keep it down, they're in the other room." Junhui warns.  
  
"Who's in the other room?" A too-familiar deep voice asks. Mingyu and Minghao stop behind the couch, admiring the landscape of surprised faces.  
  
"And who taught you guys to whisper?" Minghao shakes his head, setting his elbow on Mingyu's shoulder. "We should have done a better job at raising them."  
  
"At least I feed them more than you do."  
  
Minghao sulks. "If I had tried, you know I would've poisoned them."  
  
"Point taken. But you're getting better."  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"The stew last week didn't incinerate my tongue, so yes, huge improvement." Mingyu places his hand on Minghao's back. "Did you know you're really cute when you try to cook?"  
  
"Excuse me." Seungkwan interrupts,  "Keep the flirting to a minimum, there are children present."  
  
"Who?" Mingyu asks, the couple stepping around the couch.  
  
"Seokmin." Wonwoo answers from behind his cards.  
  
Minghao sits, letting Mingyu place himself on his lap. "Ah, right. Cover your ears Seokmin."  
  
"I'm not a baby." He retorts. "Anyway, _Seungkwan_ here has something to tell you."  
  
Seungkwan makes an offended squawk, prompting Junhui to start giggling.  
  
"Speak your mind, kid." Mingyu says easily.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Seungkwan replies, "You're barely older than me." He observes the way Mingyu's hand finds Minghao's to interlock with it. "Anyway, I simply have a suggestion. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you two would do well in a setting of your own. As you are no longer 'just friends' and rather 'committed to spending the rest of your natural lives together exclusively' it seems you need a certain degree of  _privacy_  for all of your..." He vaguely gestures towards them, "Err—new habits."  
  
Minghao says, "You want us to move out?" at the same time Mingyu asks, "What  _habits?"_  
  
"The incessant kissing." Seungkwan answers, followed by Junhui's, "They do use a lot more tongue," meriting a very distressed nose scrunch.  
  
"You're trying to kick me out because I want to kiss my husband." Minghao reiterates.  
  
"No," Seungkwan throws the pathos approach out the window, "I'm trying to rent the room you're both currently using."  
  
"...That's mean Seungkwannie." Mingyu says with the fakest pout he's ever seen. "Seokmin, how could you do this to us?"  
  
Their best friend panics externally, "I'm not trying to kick you out! You know I love the both of you! Not that's it's a bad suggestion however I—"  
  
"Let's stop it here before he starts crying." Minghao says to Mingyu, reaching up to tuck a piece of black hair behind his ear. "We're moving out next month." He announces shortly.  
  
All of their friends' heads swivel towards them.  
  
"We told you, you're bad at whispering." Mingyu shrugs, moving to lean against Minghao. "But I guess it bears repeating."  
  
"You make a good case, Boo Seungkwan." Minghao nods. "Thanks for the push."

A wave of relief passes over the room. The jerks were fake mad. It's okay.

"We've also chosen to adopt a child."

"What!?" Every man shrieks in sync.

Minghao starts laughing, clinging onto Mingyu. "Okay, that part isn't true."

"...Are you entirely sure you can't speed up the moving out process? How about this week instead?" Seungkwan asks before getting pushed off the couch. "It was a _joke,_ guys!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise surprise I'm allergic to sad endings.
> 
> Thank you for all your comments/kudos that motivated me when I was feeling especially insecure. I hope I'm a better writer someday.
> 
> Unfortunately, I am still under gyuhao's spell... so expect more messy and unintentionally angsty stories from me...


End file.
